Mama knows best

Frederick News-Post 05/06/2012 Mama knows best IN HONOR OF MOTHER’S DAY, I want to share something my daughter wrote: When I was younger, I would fall and skin my knee or get in trouble at school or be teased. No matter what happened, my mom always knew how to make it better.It could be a kiss or a hug or a pep talk or a hot chocolate. Whatever it was, it always worked and, before you knew it, I was back up and on the go. I remember back before I left for college. All of my things had been packed and arrangements had been made with my future roommate as to who was responsible for bringing what to “furnish” our dormitory. That evening, I found myself curled up in bed, sobbing with grief. This was the beginning of a new period in my life. Which meant I was leaving another period of my life behind. Gone were the days of the security of having my brother right next door and my parents across the hall. Gone were the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches my mother packed in my lunch every day since I was in elementary school. Gone were the days of set schedules and Dad taking on the role of human alarm clock. I felt an overwhelming sadness and an odd sense of guilt. And I was afraid. I was afraid of growing up; moving on, leaving. So I did the one thing I knew would make everything all right again. I went to my mommy. And she knew how to make it better. During my college years, I suffered from an eating disorder. For more than a year, I kept my suffering a secret.My mom knew that something was wrong, but she didn'’t know what. So she couldn'’t fix it. And I could see that it was killing her. One night, after a particularly bad day, I started to get really warm. I was driving home in the middle of November and, even with the windows down and the air conditioning on, I was sweating. About halfway home, my left arm started to go numb and I could feel myself getting dizzy. It was then that I realized how deep I’d sunk and vowed that I wouldn’'t let myself continue down this path. With all the will I could muster, I made it home, pulled into the driveway and dragged myself to the door. Too weak and scared to open the door myself, I rang the doorbell. Moments later, there she was, taking me in her arms and leading me inside. And she knew how to make it better. The years went by and I soon found myself stepping into my wedding gown. I’d found the love of my life and could not wait to start a life with him. I had been so caught up in the preparations for both the wedding and my upcoming move to his home in the Netherlands that it wasn'’t until I was being laced into my dress that I realized the severity of the path I'’d chosen. Not only was I leaving what had been my home for so many years, I was also leaving behind my language, my country, my culture, my friends and, most of all, my family. I didn'’t want to leave, but I knew that I needed to be with the man I’d given my heart to. But this time, when I reached out to my mother, she didn'’t know what to do. Her baby girl, her best friend, was leaving her. Though she knew this time would come, no amount of visualizing or fabricated scenarios could have prepared her for this moment. So we stood there and held each other and cried. Whether it’s advice, a chat, a shopping trip, a cookie baking session or to wipe my tears and tell me that everything will be OK, there are still times when I need my mommy. And I hope there always will be. My daughter, Tiffany Jarman Jansen, is a mom now, too. Her daughter, Chloe, will be 5 months old on Wednesday. Tiffany and her family reside in Amersfoort, The Netherlands. Lois Jarman writes from Knoxville. She teaches in the Frederick County Public Schools and at Frederick Community College, and has a blog, Mom’s Ponderings, at http://momsponderings.blogs pot.com.